


Blue Denim: A Keeper 'verse Tale

by jagfanatic (LustyLadyJane)



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-01
Updated: 2008-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustyLadyJane/pseuds/jagfanatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony, a slave in the Keeper-verse, stumbles upon a stranger in the woods.</p><p>Setting: After #270 in the Keeper'verse.<br/>Hawk_Soaring is the creator of this Tony and the "Keeper" Universe. They belong to her, I have merely borrowed them.  She has my permission to use any or all of this story in any manner she wishes within the "Keeper" 'verse.</p><p>Extensive Rewrite: April 4, 2011</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Denim: A Keeper 'verse Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hawk_soaring](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawk_soaring/gifts).



> Disclaimer:  
> All rights to the characters from NCIS, and all other Intellectual Property, belong to their creators &/or the copy-right owners. The scenarios I posit and characters I create are fictional, are not canon, are in no way related to the real NCIS, and belong to me.

Guys in denim jeans always reminded her of ranching and rodeos and lithe, limber, cowboys smelling of sweat and leather, livestock and hay. Cowboys with broad shoulders, muscular arms built up by tossing bales of hay, and tight buns from breaking livestock who could twirl her at breakneck speed around sawdust-covered dance floors. It didn't matter if they wore Levi's or Ralph Lauren; boot-cut, stovepipe, acid-washed, or can't-bend-your-knees stiff; indigo-blue, Little-Joe green, or bad-boy black. It was the denim that did the trick.

The young man in front of her was no cowboy, but he was tall and lean and wore skintight low-rise jeans. He lived in the house at the end of the road. From the moment she first saw him, the lost and lonely aura that surrounded him haunted her. She had asked around and found out his name was Tony, his master's Gibbs. She began to watch him, unobtrusively, from the woods. She chastised herself each time for spying, but found herself drawn again and again to her favorite vantage points. His master was very protective and rarely let him out of his sight when they were outdoors. Particularly when he was barefoot and shirtless like today.

She had actually been minding her manners today. The path she took led away from that particular house. Her walk was cut short by a misstep that ended in a banged hip and several scrapes and bruises. Without thinking about it, she took the shortest route home, past the house where Tony and his master lived. At the edge of the clearing below the house, they had stumbled upon each other, almost literally. He froze in his tracks, wide-eyed, she clutched at a tree for support, and they stared at each other for several short, interminable minutes.

The sense of loneliness and little-boy-lost had faded. She watched as Tony's eyes filled with an enticing blend of curiosity and uncertainty. Grey eyes gazed up quizzically into hazel. She stepped closer, rested her hands lightly on the faded denim at his hips, thumbs idly tracing the thick seam. Tugging gently on his jeans, she took a step sideways off the trail, towards a dense copse of trees. She paused to see if he would follow her lead. He did, and in a half-dozen more steps they were off the trail and well out of sight. She slipped off her sandals, wanting to feel the cool earth beneath her feet.

She leaned forward, her tongue teasing its way back and forth across his bare chest to play with his nipples. A light nip on one nipple and both popped to attention. She chuckled deep in her throat. He shivered when she took his nipple in her teeth and lapped at it. Her splayed fingers glided over the heavy denim around his hips to his ass. She felt his cheeks clench, and her nipples stiffened beneath her silk camisole. She breathed in the dusky scent of his cologne, and the heady odor of their arousal.

Her eyes glowed with desire, all aches and pains from the fall forgotten. She looked up at him, mindful of any sign of reluctance or distress at her highly illegal actions, and slowly dropped to her knees. Her tongue never left his skin as it wended its way to his navel and beyond. An incongruous hint of sawdust elicited a shuddering moan from her that drifted across his lower abs leaving him hard and her wet and hot. Tasting the salty leather of his belt, she used her teeth to pull it free of the buckle.

Keeping her eyes on Tony's, she bent her head to one side and mouthed his cock through the denim. His eyes closed and he arched his back, pushing into the sensation. She took her time toying with his cock through the fabric. Her own arousal grew each time she did something that gave him pleasure. She nuzzled and sucked the cock beneath the fabric, then ducked down to reach his balls thorugh his jeans. She breathed out heavily then quickly sucked hard. He gasped as warm and cool air caressed his balls.

Her left hand slid between his legs. She pressed upward with the heel of her hand in long, firm strokes. He pushed into her touch, shifting his hips slightly and widened his stance to allow better access. Aching and quivering inside with her need for release, she rocked back on her heels, riding them briefly to take the edge off. She rose up on her knees and massaged his ass with her right hand.

He was fully aroused; the tight denim outlined his cock. She gripped it lightly in her teeth and ran them up and down its length. When he moaned, she responded with one of her own, knowing Tony would feel the sound vibrate down to his balls, and through to his ass. She nuzzled his fly until her teeth found the zipper and tugged it down. His cock struggled free of the jeans, only to find it's head gently recaptured in her teeth. The shaft was abandoned to the cool air while the head was engulfed in warmth.

Her teeth rasped lightly over the sensitive skin and her tongue twined around, up, and down. His cock jerked and strained to be taken into her tantalizing mouth. He groaned and reached out blindly to clasp her shoulders. Her fingers glided over his abs and chest. She dipped her head, enveloped him, and drew him into her throat. Well-trained muscles gripped and released and sucked. She suddenly pulled away only to plunge down over him again. The denim had chafed her lips and now the zipper nipped at them, a bruising kiss from a wanton lover. She tasted her blood and to it was added the beginnings of Tony's orgasm. The pungent flavors seeped across her taste buds, salty and musky and not unpleasant.

She tugged his jeans down a few inches, cupped his balls in her hand and kneaded them lightly. He groaned, thrust his hips forward frantically, and she matched his pace. Fingers dug into her shoulders, and she grunted softly. Her throat thrummed against his cock and he shuddered violently. She raked her teeth along the length of his shaft and with an unintelligible cry he came. She eagerly swallowed all he offered. Tony clung to her, jerking and writhing, until his legs gave out. She reached up to support him as he collapsed slowly to his knees. Gathering him in her arms, she murmur softly to him until the aftershocks passed.

Tony drew back and stared at her with a puzzled expression

Concerned, she asked, "What's wrong?"

He whispered hoarsely, "I don't understand."

"Understand what?"

He gave her a strange look. "Who are you," he asked, "the Blow-Job Fairy?"

Grinning mischievously, she touseled his hair and said, "You looked like you could use some loving."

"I guess I could," he whispered. A shade of loneliness drifted across his face.

She hugged him tightly. The loneliness faded to be replaced by consternation. At her questioning look, he blushed and stammered, "Did you... I mean... That is..." He took a quick breath and blurted out, "What about you? I don't want to leave you hanging."

Her delighted laughter filled the woods. "That's sweet, Tony," she said, kissing his hair. "But don't you worry about me; this one was for you." She eased him upright, rose gingerly and said with a wink, "Can you walk? Or do you need someone to lean on?"

He scrambled to his feet. "I can manage. You look like the one who needs a couple of crutches. What happened?"

"I forgot how rocky that trail was." She dangled her sandles in the air. "Strappy shoes and rocks don't mix. Don't worry, I'm sure it looks worse than it is. A hot shower and some liniment and I'll be right as rain."

They headed back to the trail. He was in the lead and glanced over his shoulder to ask, "How do you know myname, anyway? And don't I get to know yours?"

"Slave's names are a matter of public record."

And yours?

"That depends on whom you ask," she teased, full of mischief again.

He stopped and shot her a look of pained exasperation.

"Poor, Tony! It really isn't fair, is it? What if I just call you Commando?"

He managed to glower and blush simulataneously.

She giggled and stepped closer to kiss him on the cheek. "Very well. My friends call me Lady Grey"

"Lady!" He stiffened, his eyes filled with apprehension.

She rushed to reassure him. "Don't panic. It's an honorary title, not a fancy-dancy Lord-and-Lady one." She paused, listening to something in the distance. "Oops! I think I hear your master's voice."

Tony turned and loped into the clearing, calling out, "Jethro! I'm over here!"

Lady Grey watched with interest as Gibbs motioned his slave up to the house. Tony broke into a run. She frowned and shook her head. It never ceased to amaze her how clueless some masters were.


End file.
